


Lime

by coffeewordangel



Series: Ana sucks but her party was okay [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 11:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13635156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeewordangel/pseuds/coffeewordangel
Summary: Gerard can't feel his fingertips





	Lime

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing new here, just finally moving things over from LJ for posterity or something. :)

Gerard can’t feel his fingertips. He can see them; they’re at the end of his fingers right where they’re supposed to be and if he concentrates he can wiggle them a little. But he can’t feel them.

This probably means he’s more fucked up than he should be at a party filled with jocks. He really should gather up his brother and get John or Ray to drive them home. Only Mikey ran by with Pete and a bong over an hour ago so god only knows where they might be and Gerard thinks his body might have melded to the shit-brown couch.

He wonders if he could create a super power out of that.

“You have superpowers?”

“Huh?” Gerard responds intelligently, snapping his head up.

Pretty golden-brown eyes. Sticky-uppy black hair. Wicked smile.

_Pirate smile_ , his brain whispers.

“Pirate, huh?” The smile gets wider, more amused.

Did he say that out loud? Fuck. Apparently he’s not too drunk to blush.

“You are entirely too cute,” the stranger states, sinking onto the couch that is currently melded to Gerard’s body. “I’m Frank. Ana’s cousin.”

Gerard thinks he can feel this boy through his newly acquired couch appendage. No, wait. That’s actually the boy’s hand brushing Gerard’s hair back behind his ear.

“Uhm.” Gerard swallows hard. “Gerard.”

Frank tilts his head and leans closer. “Gerard Way?”

Is he psychic? Gerard blinks. Rapidly.

Frank lets out a peal of laughter. “No. Not psychic.”

Fuck. He’s gotta quit thinking out loud.

“Ana warned me about you.” Frank leans even closer and his lips are almost brushing Gerard’s. “Tell me, is everything she said true?”

Suddenly Gerard feels very light-headed. He licks his lips and his tongue grazes Frank’s lower lip but the other boy doesn’t pull away. “Probably,” he murmurs.

Frank’s grin is blinding. “Fabulous,” he drawls before settling himself firmly in Gerard’s lap.

Okay. Apparently his dick is not suffering the same fate as his fingertips. He’s not sure he’s mentally prepared for a lapful of beautiful boy but he’s not going to shove him off or anything. That would be stupid. And probably counterproductive.

Frank laughs low and intimate and it rolls over Gerard’s skin like caramel.

“How fucked up are you, exactly?” he murmurs against Gerard’s mouth.

Gerard smiles, slow and open. “No drugs. Just really really drunk.”

“You gonna regret this tomorrow?”

“Regrets are stupid.” Gerard isn’t entirely convicted that this will be his permanent life-philosophy but it sounds good at the moment and it makes Frank happy.

“Good.”

Frank presses a hard, wet kiss to Gerard’s lips. Then he fluidly slides from Gerard’s lap to the floor, landing on his knees. He gives Gerard another pirate grin and reaches up to undo Gerard’s jeans.

Oh god. He’s about to get his first ever blowjob from some gorgeous random guy in Ana Beckin’s basement. He tries not to hyperventilate.

“What about...” Gerard flutters his hand toward the door, unable to be more articulate.

Frank breathes hot over Gerard’s dick, which is still trapped beneath a layer of cotton. “Everybody else is pretty much passed out in the living room.”

Gerard frowns and looks around the room he’s in which makes Frank chuckle.

“No, honey,” Frank corrects with a grin. “This is the den. Besides, I locked the door.”

Satisfied, Gerard slouches back against the couch, spreads his legs wider and tries to quell the butterflies in his stomach. Frank slowly slides Gerard’s underwear down, uncovering him one centimeter at a time like he’s unwrapping a present. Gerard has to dig his not quite so numb fingers into the couch cushions to keep from covering himself up again.

He’s never been scrutinized this intensely before. At camp last summer he and this kid Bert exchanged handjobs but that was furtive and quick groping after lights out. This is completely different. For one thing there are plenty of lights on and for another, Frank is taking his time and seems to be into what he’s doing, whereas Bert kinda just wanted to get off.

Gerard opens his mouth to say...something, but Frank chooses that moment to wrap his full lips over the head of Gerard’s cock and all that escapes his throat is a breathless moan. Jesus fucking Christ. Nothing has ever felt as good as this. Nothing.

Isn’t alcohol supposed to hinder orgasm or something? Because it’s sure as hell not hindering his. He feels like he’s going to come any second and then Frank does the impossible: he takes Gerard’s cock all the way into his mouth, head hitting the back of his throat, and fucking _swallows_.

Gerard comes undone. He de-evolves into a mass of nerves and tissue, brainless and dysfunctional while Frank sits back on his heels looking pleased with himself.

“Nngh,” Gerard moans, trying to locate his vocal chords.

Frank chuckles. “You’re so hot. I bet you’re amazing when you’re sober.”

Gerard will be sober for him. He’ll be anything for this boy. A mime, a lamp post, Doctor Who, anything.

Frank searches his pockets for a moment. Once he finds what he wants he leans back over Gerard’s lap to grab his wrist. He turns it so Gerard’s arm is exposed.

Gerard watches blearily as Frank drags charcoal eyeliner over the pale skin of his forearm. Eventually seven numbers appear.

“I’ll be really disappointed if you don’t call me,” Frank whispers.

So will Gerard.


End file.
